


whip 'em out

by hoppnhorn



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Harringrove Week of Love, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, also there's some slight inebriation so, dumb boys being dumb and horny, i guess you could construe that as dubcon but, it's really not in this case, they're very aware of what they're getting into
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 13:48:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22717021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoppnhorn/pseuds/hoppnhorn
Summary: "Harringtonpay attention." The guy hisses, smoke leaking from his nostrils like a dragon. Or a serpent maybe."Jesus, what are you eventalkingabout still?" He groans, bats Billy's face away because hisfacekeeps wandering closer and closer. Steve's not sure if hemindsor not."Bigger dick: Pacino or De Niro?"
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 11
Kudos: 500
Collections: Harringrove Week of Love





	whip 'em out

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Шашки наголо](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29586342) by [WTF Stranger Things 2021 (stranger_thingsFB)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stranger_thingsFB/pseuds/WTF%20Stranger%20Things%202021)



> Harringrove Week of Love - 2/14/2020 - First Time
> 
> Happy Valentines Day! Here's some first kiss, first "time" goodness.

He’s not  _ exactly _ sure how they ended up here. 

Well, he knows  _ how _ , but he’s not sure why. Like, he went to this stupid party and he got a little too stoned and he just hasn’t felt like  _ leaving. _

But  _ why _ Billy Hargrove has decided to sit with him all this time, pass him a joint that first hit, and  _ stay _ .

Steve’s really not quite sure. 

He’s also not exactly sure  _ how _ late it is. Because it dawns on him that they’re alone and it’s pretty fucking quiet and  _ oh yeah _ , it’s  _ his _ house isn’t it?

He’s not even sure if people were saying goodbye as they left or if they all just evaporated into thin air or something.

Billy has pretty much kept him occupied. 

“Harrington  _ pay attention. _ ” The guy hisses, smoke leaking from his nostrils like a dragon. Or a serpent maybe. 

“Jesus, what are you even  _ talking  _ about still?” He groans, bats Billy’s face away because his  _ face _ keeps wandering closer and closer. Steve’s not sure if he  _ minds _ or not.

“Bigger dick: Pacino or De Niro?” 

This has been a thing for at least ten minutes and Steve doesn’t get why Billy finds it so  _ funny _ but he laughs anyway. Steals the joint from Billy’s teeth and takes a long hit.

Thinks.

“De Niro.” He decides. And Billy nods, emphatically. 

“Correct.” 

“You haven’t seen Robert De Niro's  _ dick _ , idiot.” Steve drawls, and Billy looks over. Eyes red, but somehow still just as sharp as always.

“You can tell when a guy is big, Harrington. It’s just  _ science. _ ” 

“Yeah, I call  _ bullshit _ on your science.” Steve snorts and stubs the joint out, the dwindling nub warm on his fingertips. 

“Come on, you've never seen a guy and thought, he’s got a fire hose in there?” Billy grins like a hungry wolf, licking his chops and Steve’s stomach flips. 

But not because he’s stoned. And not because he’s craving a large pizza and some wings. 

“You think about big dicks a lot, Hargrove?” 

Billy’s face shifts slightly, like he’d forgotten something, or maybe made a mistake. But before Billy can say anything Steve grins. “Oops, I forgot, you  _ are _ one.” 

In his head, it sounds funny enough to merit a loud snort, but Billy only seems to deflate. Relieved? Steve’s not sure. So he shoves Billy in the couch, grins with all his teeth.

“Final Round: me or you?” He asks, still laughing until he sees the color in Billy’s cheeks start to spread. Higher, lower, his face going scarlet while his neck breaks out a blotchy pink. 

“What?” He asks, staring at Steve like he’s lost his mind. And maybe he has, because all he can  _ think _ is he wants  _ more _ of this thing between them. Less tension, more impulsive. 

“Bigger dick.” Steve purrs. His cock tingling in his jeans, stirring the way it always does when Steve thinks about his junk for too long. He’s got a  _ nice dick _ . It’s only natural to get a chub out of pride. Right? 

But the heat in his gut spreads when Billy rolls his eyes. 

“That’s not how the game  _ works _ , Harrington. Come on.” 

“Why not?” Steve counters widening his legs. Billy stares at where their knees meet, his mouth open as he breathes.

“It’s about guessing, not reality. You and I could get ‘em out and measure—“

“And I’d win.” Steve says, a little too proud. A little too confident.

It’s not like he  _ knows _ that Billy has a smaller dick. He just knows that his dick is, well.  _ Big _ . And it’s been a fact since middle school that everyone in the locker room didn’t measure up; that he was  _ above average _ . So.

“Whatever, asshole.” Billy says, but he’s smiling. Smiling in a way that makes Steve’s belly flutter because he sees the pink in Hargrove’s neck isn’t  _ fading _ . 

“Don’t believe me?” Steve challenges, bold despite the heat in his face and sweating hands. “We could always _get ‘em out and_ _measure_.” 

He fully expects for Billy to laugh, maybe blush and call him a fag, but Hargrove’s smile faulters for a moment, surprise parting his lips and tinting his cheeks. And the fluttering in Steve’s belly turns to twisted hot  _ desire _ . For what, he’s not  _ sure. _ But Billy is at the heart of it, whatever it is. 

So he just, starts unbuckling his belt. 

“Harrington…” Billy murmurs but he doesn’t stop him. Doesn’t do anything except watch as Steve pulls open his belt and pops the button on his jeans. “...you’re fucking high.” He finally tacks on, licking his lips like his mouth has suddenly gone dry. 

“I’m fucking  _ bigger _ and I’m willing to prove it.” Steve pushes. The sound of his zipper is loud in the living room. Echoing off the vaulted ceiling. 

Billy finally smirks, something more  _ Hargrove _ and less terrified, and he lifts his hips to settle back on the sofa. “Challenge accepted, rich boy.” Popping his fly without any difficulty, Billy unzips. “But I’m a grower not a show-er.” 

Steve fights back an audible heavy breath. Billy is  _ bare _ under his jeans, pubic hair trimmed back but dark at his groin when he pushes his pants down to the tops of his thighs. Steve can’t help but wish he wasn’t wearing tighty whities under his own jeans, feeling sheepish when he has to pull the cotton waistband down with his pants. 

“I’m a bit of both.” He brags, half-heartedly, his eyes far too trained on Billy’s hands to really be  _ showing off _ what’s in his. Billy’s cock is still soft, uncut and average in his palm. Nothing too extraordinary but nothing  _ disappointing _ either. 

Which, Steve’s never contemplated a dick being disappointing before, so the thought jars him from his staring. Just enough for him to splash a smirk across his face when he sees Hargrove is similarly fixed on  _ his _ dick, staring as Steve slowly strokes himself. 

He wasn’t  _ planning _ on jerking off but it felt weird to not, like,  _ do _ something with it while it just sits there. The blood flow slowly fills him out, larger than before with each beat of his heart. Not that it needed to grow to be impressive to anyone. 

Steve’s cock is far larger than his palm already. 

“Jesus, Harrington.” Billy whispers. Absently, thoughtless. And Steve can’t help but preen under the attention, dick twitching with pride. 

“Told you.” He moans, touching himself a little more committedly. “That all you got?” He challenges, eyes falling to Billy’s loose grip on himself. “Thought you were a grower.”

“I am.” Billy counters, defensive and almost loud. But he doesn’t bolt. He doesn’t  _ lash out _ . Instead, he fists his dick and tugs himself in earnest.

And it’s fucking  _ hot _ . 

Steve’s never thought that about another dude jerking off but his cock gives a solid kick when Billy leans back, flexes his arm to get some real friction, the shiny head of his dick popping out from under his foreskin. 

Within a few strokes, Steve can see the change in length, the blood flow giving Billy girth and shape. He licks his lips as Billy tosses his head back, lets out a little sigh of pleasure as he rubs himself with a subtle twist of his wrist. 

Hargrove fills out in no time, Steve’s own tugging matching the pace set between them. His cock gives a feeble kick when Billy hisses, tosses his head back again. 

“Fuck.” Steve whispers, leaning back to stare unabashedly at the way Billy bites his lip, a blush spreading across his chest. His nipples pebble with arousal, his t-shirt too tight to hide them beneath the fabric. The bizarre urge to suck them into his mouth has Steve panting, moving his hand faster as he imagines his mouth on Billy’s bare skin. On his stomach. 

“Harrington.” Billy groans and their eyes meet, desire blowing Billy’s pupils wide. And before either of them can make sense of it, Steve lurches forward as Billy leans in, their lips meeting in a messy clash of a kiss. 

Steve whimpers as Billy groans into his mouth, diving headfirst with his tongue. It’s sloppy and off-kilter and probably looks absolutely  _ ridiculous _ compared to how  _ good _ it feels. He moans for it; begs without words. And somehow Billy reads him enough to respond with more. More depth and desperation, a hand on his jaw. 

“Wait.” Billy grunts when Steve pulls away, gets a look at the blissed out look on his face. The hooded eyes, the kiss-red lips. “We still have to measure.” Steve pants. 

Billy’s smile is like lightning, radiant and electric. 

He crawls, like a panther, over Steve’s body, muscles taunt and licking his teeth. So much more confident in himself than the boy who’d accepted Steve’s challenge.  _ Cocky _ , even, Billy lowers himself onto Steve’s abdomen. 

“Break out a ruler then, pretty boy.” 

It’s strange, laughing with Billy hovering over him, a beaming smile on his face, their cocks pressed together on his stomach. He doesn’t know what to do, exactly, his fingers hovering just at the surface of Billy’s skin. There’s an impulse to grab, to touch and taste. But he only watches while Billy moves, a subtle curl of his hips. 

“Close call.” Steve barely manages to whisper. “But I still have you beat.” 

“Darn.” Billy chuckles, his mouth only an inch from Steve’s own. “Guess you’re still the King of something.”

His kiss is softer than before, fleeting, like Billy wants to savor the way Steve’s lips feel against his own. But then he  _ moves _ , rubbing their cocks together in a sultry sway. His abs flexing. 

“ _ Fuck _ , Billy.” Steve squirms on the couch, his hands shooting out to grip Billy at the waist. Billy lurches forward, grinds down harder, and they share a breath. A groan. 

“You feel good.” Billy growls against Steve’s mouth. “ _ Your majesty. _ ”

“Fuck off.” Steve swallows back a laugh, but he knows Billy will feel him smiling in a kiss. Deeper, wetter. They kiss harder with each grind of their hips, tasting and grunting with pleasure. 

It’s  _ terrifying _ how naturally it all unfolds. Like Steve’s done this before and Billy’s not his sworn enemy. Or whatever. Irritant. 

He’s an accomplished  _ fuck _ is what he is. And they’re just humping each other like stupid virgins instead of whatever  _ else _ they could be doing. 

Steve’s pretty sure it involves lots of lube and one of them walking funny the next day, but this is  _ nice _ . It feels great, and Billy’s kissing him like he’ll die if his mouth isn’t latched to Steve’s. 

He hasn’t been kissed like this in a long time. 

“ _ Steve _ .” Billy groans into his mouth. “I’m gonna—“

“Me too.” He answers with a rushed hiss, kissing the rest from Billy’s lips. “Go harder.” 

The way Billy pauses to adjust his grip on the couch, find leverage, makes Steve tingle. Makes him wonder what it’d be like if their positions were switched. 

He’d want Billy’s hands all over him.

So he sidesteps fear and grabs Hargrove’s ass in both hands, pulls him down as Billy pushes forward. 

That’s all they needed, apparently. 

Two thrusts and Billy is growling into his mouth as Steve grunts, the two of them making a mess on his stomach. And shirt. He doesn’t really care that he’s wearing one of his favorite band shirts. One he’s had for years. He feels too  _ great _ to care. 

His whole body is on fire with bliss, his voice reaching a strangled moan as Billy keeps moving, rubbing their cocks together even as Steve wiggles away, the friction overwhelming. 

Gulping down cool air as Billy lifts his head and grins. Still cocky, still  _ predatory _ .

“Shit.” He growls, and something inside Steve’s stomach drops. Down to his toes. 

It’s not like he’d been  _ waiting _ for the other shoe to drop. But Billy Hargrove is like a wild animal; Steve half expects to be bitten at any given moment. 

But it’s not a bite that Billy presses to his cheek, it’s a sloppy, gross kiss. Almost a lick. Steve tries to push him away until Billy rumbles a deep laugh in his ear. 

“I want a _ rematch _ .” 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](http://hoppnhorn.tumblr.com) & [twitter](https://twitter.com/hoppnhorn)


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